Spent
by Spinnd
Summary: When Malone is rescued from traders, each of the explorers have to deal with the event and learn to let go. Slight AU, takes place around Season2. Revamped the format, hopefully for the better.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Everything doesn't belong to me, except Jakum and the traders. Lost World is Coote/Hayes's, etc etc.  
  
Author's note: First Lost World fic. Am quite a greenie to the whole layout of things, so constructive criticism would be very helpful. Apologize for any loopholes, and the like. Hope you'll enjoy it.  
  
She stumbled through the jungle wildly, the rain soaking her through. A taller figure was behind her, his arms flailing as he pushed past fronds, all the while gaining on her. He finally caught up with her. Grabbing her elbow, he spun her around.  
  
'Miss Veronica, we cannot go on. With this storm, we'll never get to the treehouse.'  
  
She wrenched her elbow out of his grasp.  
  
'What makes you think that I can't find my way around, after spending my whole life here?'  
  
'It's not that,' he said, attempting to placate her. 'I'm just saying we should camp somewhere. Stop for the night.'  
  
'Fine, you can take a break. I'll see you in the morning.  
  
'Maybe.'  
  
The man sighed in frustration. Every time, their conversation had boiled down to a situation where it seemed that he was patronizing her.  
  
The wind howled around them, stirring the leaves into a random dance upon the muddied floor. She had been true to her word about being able to navigate around the jungle. And with surprising ease, he noted.  
  
'When we reach the treehouse, you have to go alone,' She slipped her knife from the waist holster. He eyed it warily.  
  
'Proof for George and the others that you're an ally, so you don't have to waste time explaining what had happened.'  
  
"Miss Veronica, where are you going?'  
  
'I have to go to the Zanga. We cannot defeat the traders alone. There are too many. If they outnumber us, we. we will never save him.' She turned away, but still he saw the tears that ran down her cheeks, mingling with the rainwater.  
  
'We will,' he placed a hand on her shoulder, a gesture of comfort. 'I promise.'  
  
Her smile, though weak, spoke volumes of thanks as she accepted his reassurance.  
  
'Come on, we're wasting time.'  
  
  
  
After about half an hour of walking, she stopped at a wide fork in the path.  
  
'This is where we split. Take the right fork and follow the path for about an hour. You should see the treehouse by then. Tell the others to meet me at the Zanga village as soon as they can.'  
  
'Will you be alright Miss Veronica?' She nodded, mouth drawn into a tight line, her brow furrowed in worry. She took off towards the left fork before she suddenly turned around, ran back and hugged the surprised man.  
  
'Jakum, I appreciate all that you have done for Ned and I. Thank you.' And with that she disappeared into the forest.  
  
Jakum stood dumbfounded for a moment, rain dripping off his crudely woven hat. That woman was full of surprises. Her mood swings were so random; he might just get dizzy trying to keep up.  
  
  
  
'Professor Challenger! Lord Roxton!' The three explorers looked over the balcony in surprise.  
  
'Who on earth is that?' Marguerite was extremely distrustful of strangers, especially when they appear in a thunderstorm shirtless, donning a misshapen hat, and grasping a knife in one hand.  
  
'Never seen him before in my life,' Roxton declared as he snatched a rifle from the rack.  
  
'Miss Veronica sent me to tell you that she needs you to meet her at the Zanga village. Your friend is in great danger.'  
  
'Malone is in danger?' The skepticism was still in Marguerite's voice, though accompanied with concern.  
  
'She gave me her knife to prove that I'm a friend. But we must hurry!'  
  
'Roxton, I don't know about this.'  
  
'Challenger, what do you think?' John always turned to the older man for more 'logic-based' answers.  
  
'He looks, well, non-threatening,' Marguerite rolled her eyes at this. 'But if he's really Veronica's friend, and is telling the truth, then I think we better hurry. Goodness knows what Malone's gotten himself into this time.'  
  
'That's the whole point! How do we know if he's telling the truth?'  
  
'Marguerite, will you calm down?' John threw her a bemused look. 'His knife isn't much use against this Webley now is it?'  
  
'Oh where have I heard that before,' Marguerite grumbled as she followed the men down to the elevator, grabbing her revolver, just in case.  
  
  
  
'Stay right there,' Challenger called out as he hurried out of the elevator. 'And don't touch the wires.'  
  
The three pushed open the gate carefully, scanning the surrounding trees for signs of an ambush.  
  
'Miss Veronica said to meet her at the Zanga village,' He thrust the knife handle-first at Challenger, who involuntarily jumped back. 'Her knife.'  
  
'Well, it is hers,' John scrutinized the man from under the brim of his hat. 'And he's not armed, from the looks of it.'  
  
'Is that suppose to make me feel any better?' Marguerite scowled. By all accounts, his goons should be leaping out from behind them at any minute.  
  
'My name is Jakum. I escaped from the slave camp with Miss Veronica.'  
  
'Slave camp?' Roxton threw a worried glance at the Professor. 'What was Veronica doing at a slave camp?'  
  
'She and Ned were captured. Early this morning, when they were leaving the Zanga village, as Miss Veronica told me.'  
  
'So Veronica and Malone got captured and you played Good Samaritan and helped them,' Marguerite challenged Jakum with a cynical stare. Jakum threw his hands up in frustration. Why did he have to meet all the stubborn ones?  
  
'Yes. Look, we're wasting time. She needs you to meet her at the village. She's getting the villagers to help rescue Ned.'  
  
'How do we know we can trust you?' John sidled up to Marguerite. Her suspicions were rubbing off on him.  
  
'Because if you don't Lord Roxton, then we might not get your friend back alive,' Jakum almost hissed with impatience.  
  
'My master has a tendency to kill rebellious slaves.'  
  
There was a long, uncomfortable pause before Challenger spoke up.  
  
'We'll go,' he ignored the shocked looks the other two gave him. 'We can't afford to forfeit Malone's life on our. uncertainties.'  
  
'Even if it means our deaths?' Marguerite was incredulous.  
  
But Challenger had already taken the lead, with Jakum following closely behind. 'We might as well take that chance then,' Roxton muttered as he slung the rifle over his shoulder and started off with Marguerite through the rain. 


	2. Chapter 2

'Assai!' Veronica cried out when she saw her friend.  
  
The young woman looked up in astonishment when a disheveled Veronica burst into the hut, soaking wet and clad in gray shirt and pants, definitely not her usual attire.  
  
'Veronica, what's wrong,' she led her to a chair and forced her to sit down. 'What happened?'  
  
'We ran into traders this morning. They took us to their camp, but I escaped. He didn't. I-- I don't know what to do.' Veronica broke down as Assai embraced her tightly, letting her vent the emotions bottled up inside of her for the past twelve hours.  
  
'He did it for me. He sacrificed himself for me.' She lamented, voice cracking. 'But what if I can't do the same Assai? What if I cannot help him?' 'What if he died to save me?'  
  
  
  
Assai watched as her friend slept soundly on her bed. Several near- encounters with slave traders had left her with enough experience to know that they were crafty and brutal. A lethal combination.  
  
Assai buried her head in her hands, thinking of the young man whom Veronica held so close to her heart.  
  
He was a good friend, and people like him shouldn't have to face death at the hands of the slave traders. It shouldn't end like this. It can't.  
  
She was startled out of her musings when four people were led into the hut.  
  
'Challenger, Roxton, Marguerite,' She greeted them each, eyeing the strange man who came in with them.  
  
'My name is Jakum, Miss.' Assai smiled at that.  
  
'I'm Assai. It is good to meet you,' She gripped his hand in a firm handshake.  
  
'How is Veronica?' Challenger asked, kneeling by the bedside, a frown appearing when he took in her present clothing.  
  
'She is sleeping. She was running a fever, probably due to shock. She has a few bumps and bruises but no sign of torture. Physically, she's seems fine. But I can't say the same for her emotional state. Would you all like to dry off?'  
  
'We're fine,' Challenger half-heartedly answered.  
  
'You know what happened?' Assai shook her head at Roxton's question.  
  
'But you do,' Marguerite directed this at Jakum. 'You were there, weren't you?'  
  
Jakum nodded slowly, understanding the hidden connotation.  
  
'I'll tell Jarl to assemble the men in two hours. Will that give you sufficient time Jakum?'  
  
'Yes, I would like to leave the village as soon as we can,' he glanced at the explorers.  
  
'I fear for his life.' He added softly.  
  
'We all do Jakum,' Marguerite said.  
  
  
  
*Flashback*  
  
'So, tell me why we had to get up so early again?'  
  
'Because if we get back to the treehouse before the others wake up, we can paint our faces black, hide under the table, and scare them out of their wits.'  
  
Malone cocked an eyebrow at Veronica, who was fighting to a straight face.  
  
'No. really.?' A small giggle escaped her lips and he couldn't help but grin. 'Seriously though, is this some new tactic to avoid the dinosaurs?'  
  
'No,' her grin grew wider. 'I told you, it was a surprise.'  
  
'I'm not too fond of surprises, Veronica.'  
  
'Don't worry. It's nothing too damaging.' She burst out in hysterics at the brief look of horror that he gave her.  
  
They climbed steadily uphill, grabbing shrubs and roots to hoist themselves up. Suddenly, Veronica looked over her shoulder, gave a small yelp, grabbed Malone by his wrist and started pulling with great urgency.  
  
'Veronica, what-'  
  
'Quick! Keep climbing. The sun's about to come up.'  
  
They worked at a frantic pace for about five minutes before reaching the top of the cliff. Malone was about to sit down on a large rock to catch his breath when Veronica yanked him up again.  
  
'Veronica-'  
  
'Sshh. Look, look at that sunrise.'  
  
Malone had to admit that the sunrise was pretty much worth the effort of huffing and puffing their way up the hill. The rays that peeked over the mountain range seemed to be thrown at some particular angle that scattered them into shades of crimson and magenta across the sky. As the sun rose, the shades turned to orange and pink, then to yellow, and finally, the sky returned to its normal blue.  
  
'Amazing,' he breathed at the end. 'Never got that kind of view from the treehouse.'  
  
Veronica smiled at the wonder on his face. Two years on the plateau had still not remove the vestiges of innocence that made him so endearing.  
  
'So, did you like it?'  
  
His lips slowly curved into a grin.  
  
'Well, it wasn't too damaging, but.' he made a dramatic pause, 'I like those colours better when they're on your face.'  
  
In the split second that Veronica took to get the joke, Malone had already grabbed his pack and started climbing down.  
  
'Edward Malone, wait till I get my hands on you,' she yelled in mock menace. 'You know what colours are going to be on your face when I'm done with you?'  
  
'Blue and black, that's what,' came his laughing reply.  
  
  
  
By the time they reached the bottom, they were so winded that they could hardly breathe, let alone laugh. They lay against a large rock panting, faces flushed with exertion.  
  
'I'm going to die from asphyxiation by the time this is over,' Malone gasped, his shoulders shaking with controlled laughter.  
  
'Well, it's your fault,' Veronica punched his arm lightly. 'If it weren't for your dumb quips, we wouldn't look like we had just run away from a Mother T-Rex.'  
  
'Two,' he corrected her. 'Two mother T-Rexes and raptors to boot.'  
  
'Right,' she leant back and rested her head on the rock, eyes closed. 'And to think, going through all this trouble just to get you to watch a sunrise. But at least it was nice, wasn't it?'  
  
There was no answer.  
  
'Ned?' she opened her eyes, only to be greeted by the barrel of a gun in front of her.  
  
'Sorry miss,' the owner of the gun leered. 'Didn't get to see the sunrise.'  
  
When Veronica shifted slightly, the gun was pushed closer to her temple.  
  
'Don't try anything funny,' he snarled. He gestured to another man, who pulled her up and held her tight.  
  
'My master will be pleased to have you join our trade,' the man with the gun grinned as he bent so close she could smell whisky on his breath.  
  
'It's not often we get to sell white-skin slaves.' 


	3. Chapter 3

'Looks like it's our lucky day Ranch,' the youngest of the four scuttled next to the older man.  
  
'Sure is Pip. Now shut up and go help Badger tie up the boy,' Ranch waved him off like he was an annoying fly.  
  
'Yes sir,' Pip shrank back, 'right away.'  
  
Veronica sneaked a look at Ned. Badger was having a bit of trouble tying his hands behind his back. Pip went over and stood aside with nervous interest, until Badger yelled at Pip to stop looking like a fish and help him. Ranch, however, had taken a sudden interest in the blonde before him, who was clad in rather minimal clothing.  
  
'You're a pretty thing, aren't you?' He grinned wickedly. Veronica glared at him and tried to free herself from the vice-like grip.  
  
'Very feisty too. I like that.' And in one swift motion, dipped his head and kissed her full on the lips.  
  
'Get off her you beast!' Malone's sudden outburst caught his two captors by surprise. They stumbled back as he sprang at the bigger man and slammed into him with full force, hands half-bound behind him. Both tumbled to the ground in a dusty heap.  
  
Ranch cursed angrily, and upon getting to his feet, dealt Malone with a forceful kick to the ribs. He cried out in pain and curled into a fetal position.  
  
'Stop it!' Veronica thrashed against the man who was holding her from behind. She wanted to help Ned, but her efforts were futile. Ranch lashed out again, this time his boot catching Malone in the face. Blood trickled down from his left temple.  
  
'That,' he hissed through his teeth, ' was a very stupid thing to do.' Turning to Badger and Pip, he backhanded them both.  
  
'Don't let this happen twice.' The two men nodded in fright.  
  
Ranch eyed Veronica in a mixture of desire and contempt, and then let his gaze travel to the man behind her, who had remained unmoved throughout all the action.  
  
'Tie her up. Tight.' He made sure his emphasis was clear to Badger and Pip.  
  
They hefted Malone to his feet, who moaned slightly at the pain.  
  
'I don't think he's in any condition to pull that stunt again Ranch,' Badger said lightly, hoping to improve his mood.  
  
Ranch just shot him a glare that would have fried lead.  
  
  
  
The two captives stumbled through the jungle, hands bound behind their backs with rough ropes. Veronica kept glancing at Ned, concern etched on her faces. He wasn't doing too well; his steps often faltered, earning him jabs in the back by the cold metal of a pistol. The head wound was still bleeding, and the loss of blood was making him weak and dizzy.  
  
They had traveled several more miles when Malone's legs gave out under him and he collapsed to the ground, almost tripping up Badger. Ranch growled in annoyance and stormed over. He took him by the collar and forced him to his feet.  
  
'Get up,' he ordered. When Malone fell once more, Ranch rolled him onto his back and kneeled on his chest. Malone gasped at the sudden weight.  
  
'I said, get up!'  
  
'He can't get up with you on him like that,' Veronica snapped, furious at Ranch's unreasonable command.  
  
Pip opened his mouth to agree with her, but decided it was not worth his life, and shut it.  
  
Ranch ignored Veronica and pushed a hand down on Malone's neck. Ned choked, struggling to breathe, his vision blurring from lack of oxygen. He could hear Veronica begging the trader to release him, but a loud roaring in his ears soon drowned her out. He was just about to slip into unconsciousness when Ranch suddenly stood up and air flooded into his starved lungs. He drew his knees up to his chest, almost sobbing for breath. After a few short moments, he was dragged to his feet.  
  
'Walk,' the hot breath sent a shiver down his spine. 'Walk, or we may just kill the girl.'  
  
Malone nodded and forced himself on, ignoring the pain coursing through his body. He could not let Veronica down.  
  
  
  
It took all he had not to fall back onto the ground and lay his head on the cool earth. He had lost track of time and distance. The ground passed by under him, mud on mud, the twigs and the leaves. It was a mindless action, putting one foot in front of the other. Which made him absently wonder why it took such a conscious effort to keep his balance. He knew Veronica was worried about him. It was tangible.  
  
'Ned!' Her harsh whisper made him start.  
  
'We've arrived.'  
  
He looked up wearily, taking note of the new surroundings. The camp was near the foot of a cliff, the ground no longer the moist forest floor but gritty sand, and scarce vegetation peppered the area. He knew he should have noticed the changes, but the throbbing in his head had prevented him from doing so.  
  
One man came running toward them, excitement evident on his face. Veronica stared in increasing horror. Tremors played along her muscles. She felt nauseous from the thought that they were slaves.  
  
'Is this the new merchandise?' When a nod confirmed his assumptions, he grinned and moved closer for inspection. 'They look good. So rare that we sell white-skins. They will fetch good price, eh?'  
  
Something in Veronica suddenly snapped. With her left boot, she kicked the 'inspector' in the stomach. A general chaos then ran through the guards around them.  
  
'The new slaves are always a nuisance,' Badger complained as he kept a tight grip on Malone, who was hollering at Veronica to stop.  
  
'We are not slaves, we will never be!' Veronica screamed and bucked as the men tried to control her, slightly hesitant to hurt a woman.  
  
'How could you? We are humans, as you are. Why are you doing this?'  
  
'Shut up!' Ranch yelled, tired of her pleas. Grabbing his gun, he slammed it into her face. She immediately went limp.  
  
'NO! Veronica!' Malone struck out at those nearest him. He struggled valiantly, and the men subdue him mercilessly. Unlike earlier, they had no qualms about using physical discipline on a male. When they were done, he was an unmoving heap on the ground.  
  
'Great, now we have to carry them.' One man whined, nursing a black eye.  
  
'Well, tough luck. Get to it,' Ranch said sourly. The recent skirmish had left him feeling very short-tempered. He watched crossly as the two unconscious slaves were slung over shoulders and carried to the cell-block. 


	4. Chapter 4

When Veronica came to, she found herself on the floor of a very dark cell. Slowly, she sat up, half-blind and with a very sore cheek. She squinted around, noticing that there were no windows and that the sole light-source came from under the door.  
  
'Ned?' her voice resounded in the cell, jangling her nerves further.  
  
'V-Veronica?' she could hear him shift somewhere to her right.  
  
'Yeah,' she got to her knees. 'Where are you?'  
  
'In a cell.'  
  
'Really, Ned, this isn't the time to joke around.'  
  
'I don't know where I am,' he said exhaustedly. 'Can't see much. I'm next to a wall, if that helps.'  
  
After a minute or so of pawing around in near darkness, Veronica bumped into a soft body curled up against the wall.  
  
'Hey,' she smiled softly at his muffled greeting.  
  
'Hey yourself,' It was Malone's turn to smile. He felt her hand ruffle his hair, then pull back.  
  
'Are you bleeding?'  
  
'Guess so.' Malone winced as she tried to move him onto his back.  
  
'What did they do to you?'  
  
'Couldn't tell. Wasn't a spectator sport.' He let out a yelp when Veronica's hand found the sensitive head wound.  
  
'After I was knocked out?'  
  
'Yeah,' Malone sat up with difficulty. He reached forward and brushed her cheek, his brow furrowing when she flinched at the pain.  
  
'That Ranch is one violent guy. You alright?'  
  
'Didn't break my cheekbone, I'll live. Why did you get involved?'  
  
'He hit you. I just lost it for a while.'  
  
'Like when he kissed me?'  
  
'Along that line.'  
  
Veronica shook her head in mock exasperation.  
  
'Just out of curiosity, was this part of the surprise too?' Malone jibed. Veronica had a sudden urge to laugh despite their present circumstances.  
  
'Lie down and get some rest. You've had a rough day.'  
  
He readily submitted to that order. Veronica sat in silence, listening to his labored breathing. 'Thank you Ned.'  
  
  
  
  
  
Malone had felt Veronica slide over to lie next to him. Caught in a limbo of sleep and consciousness, he was almost asleep again when the door creaked open and light flooded the cell. They both jerked awake, shading their eyes against the sudden glare. Then, the door was shut again. A man carrying an oil lamp slowly made his way down the steps, a bundle bulging at his side.  
  
'Who are you?' Malone asked, more sharply than he'd meant to.  
  
'A resident doctor,' came his calm answer. 'I take a look at the new arrivals, just to make sure they aren't damaged too badly.'  
  
When he reached them, suddenly, he started to gape and splutter.  
  
'What?' Veronica looked around, expecting trouble of some sort.  
  
'The Man, he looks just like the Boss. You're like them!'  
  
Ned and Veronica exchanged puzzled looks.  
  
'Like who?'  
  
'Like the masters. Your skin is white, pale like theirs.'  
  
'Does that make us your enemy then?' She couldn't make head or tail of what the man was trying to imply.  
  
'No,' his voice softened, as did his features. 'It's just awful that the masters making slaves of their own kind.'  
  
'We're all the same kind.' Veronica had never agreed with the idea of slavery, or all that rubbish about one race dominating others.  
  
The man smiled. He had taken a liking to these people already.  
  
'My name is Jakum,' he extended his hand and they shook it. 'I'm the local doctor. How did you get captured?'  
  
'We were on our way back from the Zanga village. Got ambushed after sunrise,' Veronica explained.  
  
'Only two of you... Easy prey,' Jakum said thoughtfully as he unpacked his bundle. Out came cloths, bandages, herbs, and several glass bottles.  
  
'That's a nice thought,' Malone muttered, earning an elbow from Veronica.  
  
'Very disturbing too.'  
  
He turned to Veronica first. Holding up his lamp, he examined her face and neck, methodically working his way down to her legs, feeling for broken bones and the like. Muttering inaudible diagnosis results, he took a few leaves, mashed them to a pulp then mixed it with a clear liquid from a bottle. He then rubbed the mixture onto her cheek, arms and legs. She winced at the sting.  
  
'Helps improve circulation for clotting,' he explained.  
  
He then moved on to Malone, whose injuries were a bit more extensive. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he cleaned the blood off, commenting incessantly on how 'slaves' should be treated better. After more of the mixture was rubbed onto the cuts, he proceeded to the ribs. Gently maneuvering him, Jakum took a knife and slit through the shirt.  
  
Malone instinctively pushed the hand away, and the jarring movement pulled at his sides, causing fire to dance down the length of his torso. He gritted his teeth, trying hard to breathe without screaming. Jakum steadied him with firm hands. 'It's already dirty and has blood all over. You'll be getting new clothes, the standard shirt and pants, which,' he looked at Veronica, 'may be better on cold nights.'  
  
'Uh huh.' Malone nodded when he had finally caught his breath, and Jakum continued. Veronica watched, her teeth worrying her bottom lip incessantly.  
  
'Well!' Jakum exclaimed when he was finished.  
  
'So, how is he?'  
  
'I have seen worse,' Jakum tried to be optimistic, but Veronica was not buying it.  
  
'That doesn't mean it's not bad, Jakum.'  
  
'I realized that. He's sustained quite a bruising to his sides, that is evident from the discolorations on the skin. There may be some fractures, but I can't tell without hurting him further.'  
  
'I take it that it's not good?' Ned spoke up, his voice slightly shaky.  
  
'We'll definitely need the bandages,' Jakum said and methodically got to work.  
  
  
  
'Right, all done,' he announced, a hint of dissatisfaction in his voice.  
  
Malone leaned back against the wall, cold sweat running down his face and neck. But as he concentrated on keeping the pain at bay, there was a nagging little thought that fought its way through the haze. Vaguely, he heard the whispered conversation between Veronica and Jakum.  
  
'Masters. exhibit. both of you. fetch a high price.'  
  
Escape! That was the little nagging thought.  
  
'Jakum, when do the traders sell, uh, the slaves?'  
  
'They show them on Fridays. Any day is a sell-day, if a customer comes with special request.'  
  
'Then we have to get out as soon as possible.'  
  
'What?!' Jakum and Veronica said simultaneously.  
  
'We have to get out, Veronica and me. You can come too Jakum. We can sneak out and-'  
  
'Ned!' Veronica's sharp tone brought him to his senses and stopped his rambling. 'The camp is guarded. It's sand, not trees. We hardly have any cover. Besides, Jakum is their healer. Other people need him here.'  
  
'But we can go, we can. I'm sure.'  
  
Veronica knelt next to him and took his hand in hers. He looked up, his blue eyes expressing the quiet determination.  
  
'If Jakum can help, we can get out. The key, we need the key and.' Ned suddenly shifted his gaze to Jakum.  
  
'Will you help us?' The speed of his reply would have shocked him into speechlessness if it didn't bring him so much joy.  
  
'I will,' Jakum vowed, hand over his chest. 'I can get the keys and sneak you out during the changing shifts. We can escape behind the rocks east of the camp, which is just in front of the forest. This-'  
  
The door suddenly clanged open, and the three of them jumped at the sound. A guard threw down two pairs of clothes before the door was closed. Veronica looked anxiously at the two men, all wondering if the guard had overheard their rather sloppily constructed plan.  
  
'Right,' Jakum said more quietly. 'Before midnight, there is a change of guards everywhere almost simultaneously. Not a smart system, but works to our advantage. I could convince Pip to create a diversion.'  
  
'Pip?' Malone asked.  
  
'One of your captors. He told me earlier, how he felt that something wasn't right. He already has his misgivings about selling white-skins.'  
  
'That's it?' Veronica was a bit doubtful of the plan's success ratio.  
  
'About,' Jakum said.  
  
'You think it will work? Anything could go wrong, that you do realize.'  
  
'We have to try, Veronica' Malone's grip tightened around her hand. 'I won't let you be sold off like some flimsy merchandise.'  
  
'Feeling's mutual,' she said with a smile. 


	5. Chapter 5

They had changed into the new clothes when Jakum had left, and had waited for dark to come. Something that had taken a long time, but had finally arrived. The meals they were given were measly scraps of bread and reptile meat of an unknown source. To take the worries off their mind, they started a debate on whether the meat was raptor, T-Rex, or some herbivorous dinosaur.  
  
The debate had just about reached the edge of unbelievable logic when sound of the lock turning was heard. Veronica stood up, helping Ned to do the same.  
  
Jakum's tense face peeped around the door, dimly illuminated by the torches in the passageway. He had an oddly shaped hat, which was awkwardly positioned on his head.  
  
'The change is early. Quick, we have to hurry.'  
  
The three made their slow, cautious way out of the cell block. They made it out into the open with relative ease, and they heard someone, Pip most likely, at the opposite side of the camp yelling about how raptors were just sighted near the camp.  
  
They were halfway to the edge of the jungle when there was a shout and the alarm blared.  
  
  
  
'We've been found!' The realization hit Veronica like a weight in her stomach.  
  
'Run,' Malone gave her a shove and she ran, Jakum alongside her.  
  
When she reached the rocks bordering the trees, she glanced back.  
  
'NED!' she screamed when she saw that he was running in the other direction, diverting attention away from her by hurling stones at the traders. She was about to race back when she felt Jakum's strong arms wrap around her waist and lift her off her feet.  
  
'Jakum, get her away! GO!'  
  
Malone's orders rang in his ears as he stumbled into the forest with a struggling, distraught Veronica.  
  
  
  
Malone saw them disappear into the forest when a man tackled him to the ground. He hit the sandy floor hard, and the pain in his ribs flared. The man backhanded him violently. He felt his lip bleed freely.  
  
The kicks rained down anew, as did the fists. He just curled up, still too weak to defend himself. One thing was all that mattered; that Veronica got away safe.  
  
The abuse seemed to last forever, but it stopped, eventually. He was hauled up to his feet and his arms were twisted behind his back. He saw Ranch approach him through his good eye. He braced himself for the inevitable.  
  
Ranch stopped in front of the young man, taking in his bloody appearance.  
  
'You asked for this, boy,' he sneered before landing a blow in his stomach. Ned doubled over in pain, but was pulled upright again.  
  
'You want to know what the Boss does to rebels like you?' He cracked the pistol-butt across the young man's kneecap. Malone cried out as he went down, earning a slap and a rough pull again.  
  
'Let's just put it this way: You'll beg for death by the time he's done with you.' The other traders laughed as Malone tried to register the words through the pain.  
  
'You have fun now.' Ranch said evilly as he watched him being dragged towards the chambers. 


	6. Chapter 6

*End Flashback*  
  
Marguerite sat down, suddenly looking very pale.  
  
'Looks like Malone's got himself in quite a fix,' Challenger muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to digest the information.  
  
The tent flap opened and Jarl poked his head through.  
  
'The rain has let up and the men are assembled.'  
  
'Great,' Roxton looked at Jakum. 'We just barge on in, set the campsite on fire and rescue Ned then?'  
  
'Don't have a better plan,' Jakum admitted.  
  
'Works just fine,' Marguerite said as she stood abruptly. Turning back, she saw the puzzled looks on their faces.  
  
'What? Are we going now or do we have to wait for an invitation?'  
  
'What about Miss Veronica? She would want to come,' Jakum pointed out.  
  
'She may not be up for it. She's still resting.'  
  
'Should we ask her?'  
  
Roxton shook his head. Knowing her, Veronica would be adamant about coming, and frankly, she was in no condition to be trouping around the jungle.  
  
'We will leave quietly, and get Assai to do the explaining for us.' He looked at the Zanga princess, who heaved a resigned sigh.  
  
'I have some tea that should put her to sleep in any case.'  
  
'Right, let's get a move on then. The less time we waste, the better.'  
  
  
  
The interrogator dunked his head in the tub again and held it down. Malone struggled, and only succeeded wetting him by his violent splashing.  
  
'Well lad, the girl-slave made it out, but you didn't. pity pity,' the tall man standing at the end of the room laughed as Malone's head was brought up. He barely had time to inhale before he was pushed down again.  
  
'Don't you worry now, I'm just getting started. Quad here has a strong arm, don't you agree?' He nodded to the interrogator, who released his grip. Malone collapsed on the floor gasping, the cold water burning the cuts on his face.  
  
'You are a brave one, thinking of escaping and all,' he mocked as Quad lashed Ned's hands together and pulled him up. He hooked him to an iron chain-ring in the ceiling and left him dangling, his feet barely touching the ground.  
  
'Well, you won't be so brave when I'm done,' the man laughed as he unfurled the whip with a crack.  
  
'Scream all you want boy,' he sneered as he tested the whip. 'Give us some entertainment. You won't be disturbing anyone.'  
  
  
  
The three explorers took the lead with Jakum guiding them through unfamiliar territory. They had reached the campsite faster than expected.  
  
'So what now?' Marguerite whispered.  
  
'We charge in, as planned,' Roxton replied.  
  
'Not much of a plan really.'  
  
'Well, we have the element of surprise.'  
  
'How much does that help? We don't even know how many traders there are!'  
  
'Children children, play nice,' Challenger intervened before their bickering revealed their hiding place. 'The Zanga have taken up positions at the forest edge and are waiting for your signal, Roxton.'  
  
'Right,' He glanced at Marguerite, Jakum and Challenger. 'On the count of three.  
  
'One.  
  
'Two.  
  
When the gunshot went off, chaos ensued.  
  
  
  
The Zanga had been quick to attack. They raided the houses and killed any trader that posed a threat to them. They took the torches from the guardhouse and set alight the thatched roofs. The smoke was thickening, as was all the screaming.  
  
'Jakum, where is the cell block?' Roxton yelled, holding a cloth over his mouth and nose.  
  
'I will take you there,' came the muffled reply. Roxton grabbed Marguerite's hand and they followed Jakum, careful not to stumble into crossfire.  
  
'Did you find Ned?' Challenger shouted over the din when he finally saw them emerge from the cell-block.  
  
'No,' the worry in Roxton's voice was evident.  
  
Suddenly, a trader, in his panic, ran straight into Challenger, almost knocking him over. Roxton pushed him roughly to the ground, gun trained on him.  
  
'Badger?' The man looked up at Jakum, anger clouding his features.  
  
'You turncoat!' he spat.  
  
'Now quit with that and tell me where's the boy you brought in this morning.'  
  
'You know, Pip got killed because of you. When you and that girl got away, Ranch figured things out and Pip got shot for conspiring!'  
  
'I'm sorry! What can I do about that? He knew the risks, and he agreed.'  
  
Roxton was tired, worried, and getting very annoyed with all the delays. He grabbed Badger by the lapels and hauled him to his feet.  
  
'Listen here, Badger or whatever your name is. I've got a friend, who is probably with that maniac you call Boss, and I don't know what's happening to him. He may be dead for all I know. But what I do know is that if you don't tell us where he is, I am going hang you by your worthless neck and feed you to the raptors, you hear?'  
  
The severe threat stunned everyone within hearing range into momentary silence. Badger took one look into Lord John Roxton's eyes, and decided that this wasn't a man to trifle with.  
  
'He. they took him to the chambers. I never touched him, honest! I-'  
  
Roxton let go of him and he landed with a thump on his rear. Jakum slapped a palm to his forehead.  
  
'Of course! The interrogation chambers, I should've known.'  
  
'Stunning revelation, now let's go,' Marguerite snapped. Even if Malone was mainly on the receiving end of her teasing, she cared about him like he was her brother. 


	7. Author's Note

Author's Note:  
  
This is a big thank you going out to all who have read, reviewed, and commented on the story. Your feedback has helped a lot, and is greatly appreciated. Will continue to try and meet your expectations. Hope you are enjoying the story so far.  
  
Cheers! 


	8. Chapter 7

The Zanga had been quick to attack. They raided the houses and killed any trader that posed a threat to them. They took the torches from the guardhouse and set alight the thatched roofs. The smoke was thickening, as was all the screaming.  
  
'Jakum, where is the cell block?' Roxton yelled, holding a cloth over his mouth and nose.  
  
'I will take you there,' came the muffled reply. Roxton grabbed Marguerite's hand and they followed Jakum, careful not to stumble into crossfire.  
  
'Did you find Ned?' Challenger shouted over the din when he finally saw them emerge from the cell-block.  
  
'No,' the worry in Roxton's voice was evident.  
  
Suddenly, a trader, in his panic, ran straight into Challenger, almost knocking him over. Roxton pushed him roughly to the ground, gun trained on him.  
  
'Badger?' The man looked up at Jakum, anger clouding his features.  
  
'You turncoat!' he spat.  
  
'Now quit with that and tell me where's the boy you brought in this morning.'  
  
'You know, Pip got killed because of you. When you and that girl got away, Ranch figured things out and Pip got shot for conspiring!'  
  
'I'm sorry! What can I do about that? He knew the risks, and he agreed.'  
  
Roxton was tired, worried, and getting very annoyed with all the delays. He grabbed Badger by the lapels and hauled him to his feet.  
  
'Listen here, Badger or whatever your name is. I've got a friend, who is probably with that maniac you call Boss, and I don't know what's happening to him. He may be dead for all I know. But what I do know is that if you don't tell us where he is, I am going hang you by your worthless neck and feed you to the raptors, you hear?'  
  
The severe threat stunned everyone within hearing range into momentary silence. Badger took one look into Lord John Roxton's eyes, and decided that this wasn't a man to trifle with.  
  
'He. they took him to the chambers. I never touched him, honest! I-'  
  
Roxton let go of him and he landed with a thump on his rear. Jakum slapped a palm to his forehead.  
  
'Of course! The interrogation chambers, I should've known.'  
  
'Stunning revelation, now let's go,' Marguerite snapped. Even if Malone was mainly on the receiving end of her teasing, she cared about him like he was her brother.  
  
  
  
The Boss looked up when he heard the commotion above. He glanced at Quad, who was still holding the two-by-four, awaiting further instructions. The Boss faked a disappointed sigh.  
  
'We'll have to leave for a moment,' he said to their semi-conscious captive. 'But we'll be back to continue the fun. Cut him loose.'  
  
Quad slit the ropes and Malone tumbled to the bloodstained floor. He then proceeded to extinguish the torches in the room.  
  
'Don't go anywhere now,' the Boss chided tauntingly as he exited the cell, his laughter echoing down the hallway.  
  
  
  
They made their way to one of the tents. It looked like any other tent, but inside, underneath a rug, was a trapdoor, as Jakum told them.  
  
The three explorers suddenly heard voices from inside, and Roxton quickly pulled them to the side.  
  
'What on earth happened here?'  
  
Roxton leapt out behind them, pistols aimed at the two men.  
  
'We barged in. Awful sorry,' he growled, no humor or apology in his voice. 'Where's Malone?'  
  
'Who?' the taller of the two feigned innocence.  
  
'Malone, our friend. What did you do to him?' Marguerite snapped, finger itching on the trigger.  
  
'Ah, the whelp is your friend? Well, we gave him a little discipline lesson. That's what happens when a slave thinks too much for his own good. He has a stubborn streak, that boy.  
  
'Didn't cry out until the fifth stroke. I counted.'  
  
Marguerite's hand trembled as she fought the urge to wipe the grin off his face.  
  
'And from then onwards, he screamed so loud my ears rang.'  
  
Roxton snarled and struck the man at the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. The other man turned and lunged with a roar, but was stopped short when Marguerite shot him in the shoulder.  
  
'Take care of him,' Roxton told Challenger, 'we're going to get Malone.'  
  
  
  
Roxton and Marguerite carefully made their way down the dimly-lit chamber steps. When they saw the chambers, they were shocked at the sheer enormity of the place.  
  
'It's a labyrinth down here,' Marguerite whispered. The tunnels snaked down, twisting off into goodness-knows-where, and there were four entrances, each leading to, and lined with, dozens of cells.  
  
'How on earth are we going to find Malone?'  
  
'We look,' Roxton gripped his pistol and set off down the first entrance. 'We walk and look until we find him.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'Do you want to find him?' Roxton faced her impatiently, a scowl forming. 'Or are you too tired to bother?'  
  
'I meant, is there a quicker way to do this?' She hissed, the tension getting to her. 'For your information, I'm not as cold-hearted as you think!'  
  
'That's new,' he muttered as he walked off. Marguerite fumed, but bit her lip from returning a scathing remark. She glanced at his retreating form, then took another entrance, hand ready on her holster.  
  
  
  
Marguerite glanced in at every cell as she passed, her mind embroiled with emotions. Anxious to find Malone, regret of her harsh words to John, the list seemed endless.  
  
She shivered. There was no draft down here, but it was cold. And the thought of all the horrors that slaves endured down here made it eerily worse.  
  
'Malone,' she said softly, scanning the cells through the barred windows of the doors for any sign of life.  
  
But they all were cold and void.  
  
She was about to pass one of the last cells when she suddenly spotted a dark figure crawling towards a corner. She looked in closer, straining to see in the dark. The torch along the corridor was of little use. She tried to turn the knob, but it was locked.  
  
'Oh just perfect' she grumbled angrily as she tried to twist the knob, flicking it uselessly. She needed a hairpin, or anything to pick this stupid lock. She searched her pockets.  
  
'Marguerite?' She jumped at the sound of that familiar voice. She turned around, confused when she saw Roxton.  
  
'The tunnels are interlinked,' he answered her unspoken question.  
  
'Great,' she forced a smile, thoughts of their earlier conversation coming back.  
  
'Look, I'm sorry about what I said just now, and-'  
  
'It's alright John,' she smiled, a genuine one this time. 'I understand.'  
  
'Well, so much for the rehearsed apology.'  
  
'Funny,' she sobered quickly. 'Something's strange with this cell. See that?'  
  
Roxton peered in, just in time to catch a glimpse before the figure disappeared into the shadows.  
  
'Looks like this cell's occupied.'  
  
'Well, can you get the door open?'  
  
She and Roxton stepped back as the hunter shot at the lock with his pistol.  
  
'Won't open,' he grunted as he tried to open the door.  
  
'John, what if it's Malone in there?'  
  
A troubled look crossed his face.  
  
'Then we'll have to break the door down. Try anything to get to him.' He slammed the door with his shoulder. It shook, but didn't open. He cursed under his breath.  
  
'Wait, wouldn't that man have the key?' Marguerite said thoughtfully to herself, then pulled his sleeve hurriedly. 'He has the key! The boss would have to key.'  
  
'Good thinking. You stay here. I'll need to find my way back.' He added the last part just as she started to protest.  
  
She exhaled sharply, then nodded. As he ran down the tunnel and disappeared, she looked in, praying that she was right about the cell and its occupant, who was obscured by the dark.  
  
'Hang on Ned. 'Help's coming.' 


	9. Chapter 8

Note: Apologies, apologies. Have recently been tied down with an avalanche of tests and assignments. The festive period didn't help either. Here's a short chapter to tide things over until Wednesday. Thanks for the wonderful comments!  
  
Roxton came running back not long after, forehead slick with sweat.  
  
'Managed to get it from him,' he panted, holding up the key.  
  
'ONE key?' Marguerite said incredulously.  
  
'I think it's the master key to all the cells. Didn't find any other keys on him.'  
  
'Well, we might as well have a go at it. You think it'll work after you blasted it?'  
  
Roxton gave her a sheepish look. 'It should. If I couldn't open it after it was shot, I don't think the mechanisms are busted.'  
  
Marguerite sighed tiredly. She hoped he was right.  
  
Roxton fiddled with the key, jingling it in the lock. His efforts were fruitless. Finally, Marguerite took the key from him.  
  
'Let me try,' she said, her hand deftly working the lock. They swallowed surprised gasps when the click was heard and the door swung open.  
  
  
  
They stepped in cautiously, blinking in the darkness.  
  
'Malone?' Roxton maneuvered around the door. 'Ned? You in here?'  
  
Marguerite stepped on a rope of some sort. She bent down and picked it up.  
  
'John,' her voice was low with revulsion. He turned and saw what she was holding.  
  
'Whip?' There was a tremor in his voice. She nodded, inhaling deeply, trying to bury the feelings that were rising to engulf her. She flung it aside, and stepped nearer to him.  
  
'Is he here?'  
  
'I don't know. Malone!' he shouted, his voice reverberating around the room, nearly scaring Marguerite.  
  
'Roxton, that's not the way,' she hissed.  
  
'He may not be here Marguerite,' he said, ignoring her reprimand.  
  
Suddenly, there came a whimper from the far side of the cell.  
  
'Ned?' Roxton motioned Marguerite to get the torch from the corridor. He tentatively moved toward the source of the sound.  
  
'Ned?' The only answer was a scuffling sound to his right.  
  
The flame from the torch cast a diminished yellow glow around. It flickered, and the shadows jumped erratically as if they too were scared of the cell.  
  
'Move toward the right and walk forward Marguerite.'  
  
She obeyed without a question or a comment.  
  
'John,' she gasped when she finally reached the corner.  
  
'Malone!' 


	10. Chapter 9

Roxton immediately raced over to his friend.  
  
'Malone.'  
  
Ned stared at them, terrified. When Roxton reached for him, he whimpered and drew back like a scared animal.  
  
'It's me, Roxton,' he reached out for the younger man again, only to have him press back, trembling. 'I'm not going to hurt you Ned.'  
  
Malone still stared at him in the dim light, uncomprehending and frightened. He had propped himself up against the wall. His arms were wrapped tight around his chest and shoulders, legs drawn up to his stomach.  
  
'I'm not going to hurt you,' Roxton touched his cheek, and he flinched violently, squeezing his eyes shut. John looked up at Marguerite, frustrated.  
  
'He's afraid of me,' the despair in his voice was evident.  
  
'Maybe it's because you're a male, like the traders. I don't think it's anything personal,' she reassured Roxton with a smile. She crouched down and shifted closer to Malone. Passing the torch to Roxton, she knelt next to the young reporter.  
  
'Ned,' she stroked his wet hair. Her soft, feminine touch seemed to pacify him, and he opened his eyes, or at least tried to. His left eye was swollen shut.  
  
'Everything's all right now. No one's going to hurt you anymore.'  
  
A lone tear ran down his face, and his tremors increased.  
  
'It's all right now Ned,' she soothed.  
  
Malone's body shook and his teeth started to chatter. It was then that they realised he had been stripped of his shirt, and his pants had been flayed down to the bare essential.  
  
Which brought them to the more sickening realization that his body was crossed with whip-marks, some of which still bled freely. He was soaked in blood and sweat.  
  
Roxton undid his vest and covered the shivering man. Malone jerked slightly when he approached, but Marguerite's voice kept him calm.  
  
'We have to get him out of here,' Marguerite was starting to lose her nerve. The anxiety had finally gotten to her.  
  
'Well, you can't carry him. And he's in no shape to walk,' Roxton pointed out.  
  
'Then you have to carry him, that's the only option we have.'  
  
'He won't let me near him! I told you, he's afraid of me.'  
  
'Try, John,' she glared at him. 'Try! It's our only way of getting him out.'  
  
John Roxton steeled himself for Malone's reaction to him. He placed the torch in Marguerite's free hand, and in one swift move, gathered Ned in his arms. He cried out and struggled, but he was weak, and Roxton easily clung to him.  
  
'I'm not going to hurt you Ned, can't you understand?' Roxton stepped out of the cell, clutching a frantic Malone.  
  
'I'm your friend Ned!' The young man stopped struggling, though his fear was still evident.  
  
'Yes, your friend, I'm helping you,' Roxton said, relieved he had gotten him to understand.  
  
The fear dissipated quickly and by the time they reached the stairs, Malone had wrapped his arms around Roxton's neck, his face buried in his shoulder.  
  
The trust had been achieved. 


	11. Chapter 10

Challenger was pacing about impatiently when he heard Roxton shout his name. He looked up, and saw Roxton stumbling towards him with a body in his arms.  
  
'Challenger, he needs medical attention,' Roxton said breathlessly when they reached him. 'His injuries. I don't know. probably severe, you should see what they did to him and-'  
  
'Who?' Challenger asked, for once totally lost.  
  
'Malone!' Roxton half-shouted at him.  
  
'Oh my. set him down here,' Challenger cleared the area as Roxton knelt down awkwardly. He tried to put Malone down, but he clung on as if his life depended on it.  
  
'Ned, I have to put you down,' Roxton grunted with exertion. But Malone wouldn't listen, and tightened his grip.  
  
'Malone,' Marguerite looked at Challenger helplessly. 'Malone, Challenger needs to take a look at your injuries.'  
  
Roxton finally managed to pry his arms loose and when Malone tried to rise, Challenger held him down.  
  
Big mistake.  
  
Malone gave a cry and bucked, effectively catching Challenger and the others off guard. He staggered to his feet, shaking violently, the marks on his torso suddenly stark on his pale skin in the firelight. The bloodstains could not hide the scourge-marks, or the discolored bruises that covered his body in some kind of twisted abstract.  
  
'Malone,' Marguerite carefully approached him so as not to alarm him. 'Ned, we need to look at your injuries. We're not going to hurt you.'  
  
Malone was still distressed. When he attempted to move away, his bad knee buckled under him and he fell heavily to the ground. In a flash, Roxton jumped on Malone and attempted to restrain him.  
  
'Roxton, you're scaring him!' Marguerite shouted.  
  
'I'm trying to prevent him from hurting himself further;' Roxton yelled as he pinned the smaller man to the ground. Malone twisted in his grip, tears streaming down his face. He was hyperventilating; his breath was coming in sharp gasps, and the sobs only served to make breathing harder.  
  
'If he continues at this rate, he'll go into cardiac arrest,' Challenger exclaimed. Turning to Jakum, he asked, 'Do you have any sedatives? Anything to calm him down?'  
  
'Would this do?' Jakum reached into his pack and took out a bottle. Challenger opened it and sniffed tentatively.  
  
'Chloroform? Well, I guess that's all we have.' Challenger ripped his sleeve and poured some of the liquid onto it. Bending over, he held the cloth over Malone's nose and mouth. This made him struggle even harder, but once the drug kicked in, the tension left his body and unconsciousness took over.  
  
'I hope that will give him some respite,' Roxton stood up, breathing hard. 'Take him back to the village,' he told Jarl. The native nodded once, ordered for a make-shift stretcher, and was ready in no time.  
  
'What about the traders, sir?' Jakum asked.  
  
Roxton shrugged. The slaves had been freed and most had returned to their homes. The traders were another problem.  
  
'Well, they have no leader now.'  
  
'You killed the boss?' Marguerite was slightly stunned.  
  
'It was sort of an accident involving the other guy. He's dead too anyhow. But they'll figure something out.' Jakum nodded, knowing that Roxton was more concerned about something else.  
  
'You're staying here Jakum?' Marguerite asked the dark-skinned man.  
  
'My family came with the settlers. I belong here.'  
  
'What if we hadn't killed your boss? Would you still have returned?'  
  
'I did, didn't I?'  
  
Marguerite smiled at that. The explorers bade him farewell, with many a word of thanks.  
  
'And now we have Malone,' Challenger said as they followed the Zanga warriors back to the village.  
  
'I just wished it could've ended better,' Marguerite watched the still form on the stretcher. 'What will Veronica say?' 


	12. Chapter 11

'They went where?' Veronica would have raced out if Assai hadn't been holding on to her arm.  
  
'They've left to get Ned,' Assai tried to placate her and steered her to the chair. Veronica sat down reluctantly, before she jumped up again.  
  
'They went off without me?' her tone hardened.  
  
'They had to. You were asleep, and they couldn't afford to waste any more time.'  
  
'They didn't bother waking me up, did they?'  
  
Assai grimaced. 'You know you're in no condition to go with them.'  
  
Veronica was about to retort when she heard a shout from outside the tent that sounded very familiar.  
  
'Marguerite?' She was out of the tent in a flash.  
  
'Marguerite!' she yelled again.  
  
'Veronica,' the dark haired woman pushed through the throng of villagers before she got to her friend. Veronica saw Challenger and Roxton coming up behind her, a stretcher between them. She felt a hand grip her shoulder.  
  
'He's going to be alright, George will know what to do,' Marguerite told her, trying to reassure herself too in the process.  
  
Veronica was too shocked to register her words. She watched as the men carried the stretcher into the tent, their eyes fixed on the ground before them. They wouldn't meet her eyes, but even if they had tried, they would realize that her whole attention was riveted on Malone.  
The two women entered the tent, neither willing to say a word to anyone in the room. Challenger and Roxton had lifted Malone onto the bed and were taking this opportunity to have a better look at his wounds. Challenger examined him with professional precision, his voice taking on a lecturer's monotone. When Assai brought the Zanga's medical supplies, Challenger set to work, Roxton hovering around to see if he could help in any way.  
  
'Challenger,' Roxton bent down and examined Malone's left arm. 'Does this look like a puncture wound to you?'  
  
'It is a needle-mark.' Realization dawned upon him. 'They must have injected a hallucinogenic of some sort, that would explain his fever and his confusion.'  
  
Suddenly, Malone stirred. Veronica immediately reached out to him, but was stopped by Challenger.  
  
'His hallucinations might cause him to act irrationally, we shouldn't provoke him.'  
  
Malone came to rather quickly. His teeth were clenched and his breathing strained. Then, he rolled onto the floor and started to retch, though nothing came up. Roxton quickly supported him.  
  
'I should have thought of the side-effects before using chloroform,' Challenger wanted to kick himself. He could only watch as Malone's body was wracked with dry heaves.  
  
After what seemed like eternity, the retching stopped. Roxton gathered the young man in his arms and lay him down on the bed. Malone did not violently resist like the last time, but once he was on the bed, he drew back into the far corner, curling up against the wall, his arms held protectively over his head.  
  
'What's wrong with him?' Veronica asked.  
  
'He doesn't recognize us,' Roxton stepped away from the bed, not wanting to cause further panic.  
  
'He's momentarily lost the ability to discern who's who. His confusion, anxiety and paranoia may be the side-effects of the hallucinogen.'  
  
With that, Challenger abruptly stood up and left the tent. 


	13. Chapter 12

Sorry, sorry. I know it's been quite some time since I've updated. Apologize for making you all wait. Hope this will make up for it.  
Marguerite glanced at Roxton, received an affirmation and quickly hurried after the scientist.  
  
'Challenger!'  
  
Challenger turned and Marguerite was taken aback. There were tear-streaks on his face.  
  
'I don't want to think about it, Marguerite,' he said, voice shaking with controlled emotions. 'If I get too personal, if I try to imagine what the lad has been through, I would do more harm than good. Every time I look at him, I wonder if there was anything I could have done to spare him from all this torment.'  
  
Marguerite was silent, letting the older man vent out his pent-up guilt and frustrations. She placed a hand on his arm, trying to cheer, trying to comfort, trying to keep the grief at bay.  
  
'I'm boring you, aren't I?' Challenger murmured after a while.  
  
Marguerite's laughter was tinged with sadness. 'It's engaging enough to keep me awake.'  
  
Challenger smiled; a woeful attempt, but it was a smile nonetheless.  
Roxton's gaze shuttled between Malone and Veronica. Veronica had been sitting quietly in one corner, too quietly in fact. She had a faraway look about her, like she was deep in thought. Either that, or she was wallowing in self-reproach.  
  
Malone, well. he had so far remained in the same position, but his breathing was no longer ragged. Roxotn hoped that meant he had calmed down.  
  
'He told Jakum to take me to safety,' Veronica said, her voice was amplified in the relative silence.  
  
'Jakum dragged me into the forest. We hid in a hollow trunk, and he gagged me to keep me silent, all the while explaining how this was for the best, how it would be better to have reinforcements. That Ned would stand a better chance if I went to get help. He convinced me. I don't know how, but he did.  
  
'Was it really for the best, Roxton?' Her voice was laden with doubt and her eyes held a deep inner anguish. 'If I had gone back to get him straight away, maybe-'  
  
'If you had, you'd both be dead.'  
  
Veronica fell silent, the conflict within her playing over her face.  
  
'You did the right thing.'  
  
'I could have done better,' was her last thought before Marguerite and Challenger's re-entrance pulled her from her musings.  
'Should we leave him alone for the night?' Marguerite asked.  
  
'Someone should stay to watch over him, just in case.' Challenger trailed off, leaving the rest to interpret his silence.  
  
'I'll stay,' Veronica said quietly.  
  
'Will you be alright?'  
  
'Yes,' she didn't look up.  
  
'Thank you Marguerite.'  
  
Roxton quietly ushered the other two out of the tent.  
  
'She needs time to think, and be with Malone.' He looked for understanding, and was thankful to find it.  
  
'It's going to be rough for them, it's just a question of who comes out unscathed.'  
  
'Neither will George,' Roxton said sadly. 'Not after today they won't.' 


	14. Chapter 13

*Apologies.. again, to all those who have patiently waited for the next chapter. Thanks for the support. Hope this will do justice to your expectations*  
Veronica sat on the bed, watching Malone. He was an arm's length away from her, but it was so hard for her to reach out and offer him physical comfort.  
  
'I should've been there to help you, instead of running off like a coward. I'm sorry Ned..'  
  
'I'm so sorry.'  
Malone lifted his head at the sound of her voice; saw through a haze of gray a blonde girl by his side. He shivered, but out of cold and not fear. He studied her familiar face, head cocked to one side.  
  
The girl looked at him, smiled, stretched a hand towards him.  
  
Veronica saw the flicker of recognition when their gaze met. Her heart leapt.  
  
'Maybe he does remember, maybe he knows I won't do him harm,' she whispered to herself. She smiled, brought a hand to his shoulder.  
  
Malone looked at her, eyes still clouded with pain, but somewhere behind all that was gratitude fighting its way past. This was the touch he felt as the whip stung his back. Her hand had somehow reached him in his darkest hours. That same touch kept his sanity.  
  
'Angel,' he whispered hoarsely.  
  
Veronica jumped at the sound of his voice. Angel, he called her. Too deserving a name. No angel would desert her love.  
  
She sat back shakily as more tears traced their paths downwards. Malone placed a palm on her cheek.  
  
'Don't cry angel,' he said, his voice taking on a child-like quality. For a moment, he was a small boy looking up at her, blue eyes soft and innocent.  
  
Then it was gone.  
  
Veronica shuddered as the wounds on his face and body re-emerged with ugly clarity. She knew that it wasn't only blood he lost. He had also lost his innocence and faith in the goodwill of men.  
  
She stood up, not trusting herself to speak, but just silently helped him into a prone position. He relaxed in her arms; instinctively knowing she would not hurt him. Then a wave of blackness washed over him and he passed out.  
  
Veronica felt him go limp. Worried, she checked his vital signs.  
  
Still there.  
  
She took a blanket and draped it over his battered form, praying that tonight, no more dreams would come back to haunt him. 


	15. Chapter 14

Roxton sat near the fire, fidgeting restlessly. It was a mutual agreement that they would set off for the tree-house at dawn, which gave them a few more hours of rest. But he would find none tonight. His thoughts were on his friend.  
  
'No one deserves to go through that,' Marguerite had said on the way back to the Zanga village. 'Can you imagine the aftermath? How is he going to cope?'  
  
'He'll find a way,' Challenger sounded confident, but his eyes gave him away. 'The lad's strong.'  
  
For his sake I hope you're right, George.  
It was about two a.m. in the morning when Roxton entered the tent.  
  
'I'll take over from here Veronica, I can't sleep anyway.'  
  
'Neither can I,' the younger woman said with a sigh. She rose stiffly from the chair and left in a rustle of tent-flaps.  
  
Roxton watched Veronica disappear into the dark, worry etched on his tired features.  
  
She's close to breaking-point, he thought. Another addition to the casualty list.  
  
He reluctantly tore his attention away from one concern to focus on another and took a seat on a chair next to the bed.  
  
'Looks like it's just you and me, Neddy-boy,' he said in a faux light tone. 'What story shall I tell you. you've probably heard of Moby Dick more times than me. And I doubt you'd like to hear all those Chaucer tales. I've had just about enough of them myself.'  
  
'I'll tell you about the time Will and I were put in charge of the Easter eggs.' He said with a grin.  
He spent the next hour recounting all his favourite childhood memories - most with him being a nuisance to William. He felt awkward talking to an unconscious man, but it did make the place seem a little less lonely.  
  
When Ned suddenly opened his eyes, Roxton almost fell off the chair as he tried to reach the bed.  
  
'Malone?' He asked concernedly. 'Ned?'  
  
Malone scrambled up, oblivious to the bandages that had been painstakingly wrapped around his body. Roxton quickly grabbed him.  
  
'Whoa, Ned, it's okay..'  
  
The words never registered. Malone fought against the grip, and they ended up on the floor. He strained against Roxton, trying desperately to escape. It was then that Roxton noticed that his wrists were pressed together like they were in shackles.  
  
Another recollection.  
  
'Slow down Neddy-boy, you're safe now.' He wished that he could have given the Boss a slower, more painful death for doing this to his friend.  
  
'Let me go,' he moaned. 'Please.. Veronica! Where are you? Roxton..'  
  
'I'm right here buddy.'  
  
Malone looked at him, and spoke his first lucid words to Roxton since the capture, eyes bright with tears.  
  
'Don't leave me here with him. Please. I can't, no more.. Roxton.. it hurts..'  
  
Roxton cradled him as his strength slowly gave out.  
  
'It's alright, kid. I'm not leaving you. Ever.'  
  
He nodded, and knowing he was secured, slumped against the older man, trembling with exertion and fatigue.  
  
'I.. I wish I could have been there to stop them,' Roxton confessed softly. 'But I couldn't. I didn't know.. how would I have known?' Roxton closed his eyes briefly, feeling the pinpricks behind the lids. But when he reopened his eyes, his determination was once again strong and resolute.  
  
'It's too late for regrets now, that I know. But there is still time to heal, and I will do everything I can to help you Ned, or die trying.' 


	16. Chapter 15

Hello. sorry that took so long. Was experimenting around with this way of writing Marguerite's POV about the situation. Basically, the words in italics are her thoughts whereas the rest are..like a third-person narration. Hope it works. cheers!  
Marguerite sat by the fire, watching the erratic flames twitch in unison with the sputtering crackles.  
  
We're taking Malone back to the tree-house at first light.  
  
She directed her focus at the firelight, not wanting to recall the night's events or think of what unpredicted complication could arise from their present situation.  
  
Veronica seems to have taken it quite well.  
  
Beneath the façade, she knew that guilt would to swallow her friend whole should she lose her tenuous grip on her sanity for one second. Neither she nor Malone will come through unscathed, Roxton had said.  
  
Malone.. it went further than the physical trauma.  
  
Marguerite shuddered as she once again felt the whip's weight in her palm.  
  
He's strong, like what Challenger said. He will pull through. He will overcome.  
  
She then remembered his tear-streaked face and the evident terror that overrode all rational thought, further heightened by the hallucinogens' effects.  
  
He will overcome. She couldn't stand to watch him suffer. He is family; they all are.  
  
He will.  
  
For now, only hope was left.  
  
He has to. 


	17. Chapter 16

*Okay, this is a slightly longer chapter. Hope it'll tide things over till next week. Apologize once again to those who feel that I'm not updating as frequently as you'd like. Will try to wrap things up in 2 - 4 more chapters. Can't be sure though.*  
Dawn was just starting to creep over the horizon. Marguerite leaned back against the log, her mind not quite concentrating on the sunrise. They were going take Malone back to the treehouse today.  
  
"Lovely sunrise," Veronica commented from beside her.  
  
"A good omen?"  
  
"Yesterday's wasn't."  
  
Marguerite watched the younger woman closely. Though he tone was light, her face showed all too clearly the tension that was building up inside.  
  
"Managed to sleep?" They turned around and saw Roxton emerge from the tent. Veronica shook her head in reply; her blonde curls falling about in disarray.  
  
"How is he?" she asked, more concerned about Malone than her temporary insomnia.  
  
"Much better. I think that whatever they gave him has worn off."  
  
"I'll go see him," Veronica said and scrambled up.  
Marguerite smiled in faint amusement as Veronica had left.  
  
"Looks like things might change today," she commented to herself.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, nothing Roxton," she said, giving him the knowing look that always annoyed him. "It's just one of those. . hocus omen things. You won't understand."  
  
"Right," he muttered. "Hocus omen things my eye.."  
  
Marguerite turned back to face the sunrise, hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide her widening grin.  
Veronica entered the tent as softly as she could. Malone lay on the bed soundly asleep. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, noted that a peaceful look had come over his features. She stood there, rooted by the wave of guilt that came every time she saw him like this: covered in bandages, knowing perfectly well what lay beneath them.  
  
Malone stirred, as if sensing her presence in her room.  
  
"Ned?" her voice came out more shakily than she would have liked it to.  
  
He opened his eyes with considerable effort.  
  
"Ned," she was by his side in an instant.  
  
Malone felt the bed sink to one side as she sat down next to him. Still confused, he tried to sit up, only to feel the pain of his torn skin lance down his back. He exhaled sharply, the sting jolting him to full consciousness. He felt a pair of hands push him gently back down onto the bed.  
  
"Veronica?" He had to swallow several times before his voice would work.  
  
"Right on the first guess."  
  
"Where. . didn't you escape? I thought... saw Roxton, I don't-"  
  
Veronica masked her anguish at seeing him so lost with a small laugh.  
  
"We're at the Zanga village Ned."  
  
"Oh."  
  
She watched silently as he struggled to digest this new information. An awkward silence stretched for several minutes.  
  
Malone reached up and touched his left eye, wincing when his fingers brushed the still tender flesh. "It wasn't a dream then?"  
  
"No. . I'm sorry." Veronica dared not meet his gaze. "We're heading back for the treehouse today. We'd probably be leaving in a few hours."  
  
"Sure," he nodded and made a move to sit up.  
  
The room suddenly swam before him and he doubled over, breathing harshly through clenched teeth.  
  
"Ned, what wrong?"  
  
"The walls are. . moving.." He gasped out.  
  
Veronica quickly rested his forehead on her shoulder, holding his trembling form close to her. She waited for the spell to pass before releasing him.  
  
"Stay here, I'll go get Challenger." 


	18. Chapter 17

Author's Note: Mid-Year exams are finally over! Sorry for the extremely long delay. It was a combination of writer's block, preparation for exams and having to go through piles of homework that accumulated over the 2 weeks 'holiday' in March because of the SARS outbreak here. Anyhow, should be posting the ending chapters by next week (hope I can keep that promise there). Thanks for the support so far, and sorry again. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------  
  
"No, Veronica!"  
  
She spun around, confused.  
  
"I'm. I'm fine," Ned said as he slowly uncurled and shakily stepped off the bed. "I just. got up too soon."  
  
He glanced up at her, saw the doubt, and knew that he wasn't fooling anybody. His excuse sounded hollow even in his own ears. But he couldn't let them see him like this. He couldn't be weak. He wouldn't.  
  
Veronica held out her hand, but he ignored it after a moment's consideration.  
  
"I'm fine," he told her again.  
  
She just nodded wordlessly and went outside to help the others pack up for the journey home.  
  
"How is he?" Marguerite asked.  
  
"I don't know. He's shutting me out."  
  
"People do that when they try to forget the things that have happened to them."  
  
Veronica quickly blinked back the sudden rush of moisture to her eyes.  
  
"I guess that would explain it then," she said, more to herself than to her other companions. Roxton and Marguerite shared a worried look, not liking the resigned tone that pervaded their friend's normally strong, confident tone of voice.  
  
"Malone!" Challenger hurried over to the limping figure that was making its way towards them. "Are you out of your mind lad? What are you doing out of bed?"  
  
Malone grinned, or tried to. The bruises and lacerations were burning with every step, made worse by the uneven terrain.  
  
"I thought I'd just come out here to help with some packing. I think I can manage something."  
  
"Like killing yourself if you carry on at this rate," Roxton said sternly as he took in the ragged appearance of the man before him. His face was too pale, and the skin around his eyes had tightened, giving him a pained expression that was accentuated by the clenched jaw.  
  
Malone stumbled and Roxton had to catch him before he smacked his head against a stone.  
  
"I'm alright Roxton," Malone almost pleaded, desperately wanting the older man to believe him. "If I can't handle a bag, at least let me walk by myself."  
  
Roxton closed his eyes in frustration.  
  
"Fine. But if you pass out, I'm going to leave you behind."  
  
Challenger rubbed a hand over his face. He watched as Roxton stalked angrily over to the pile of bags and hoist two over his shoulders, then turned to Malone.  
  
"I'll. I'll take the rear. Don't hesitate to tell me if you can't go any further."  
  
The jungle trail never seemed so rugged to Malone as it did now. He felt the bumps and holes along the dirt track more distinctly than ever, felt it in every jar and jolt that sent pain screaming along his back and sides.  
  
When his legs gave out, the next step was the one that brought him to the ground.  
  
"Malone!" Challenger raced forward and knelt down next to Ned. "Malone, why did you have to go and do this. . Roxton!"  
  
Roxton cursed when he heard George call his name, knowing full well what had happened. Veronica took off as soon as she heard the yell.  
  
"He's passed out," Challenger said, stating the obvious. Marguerite glanced at John, suddenly afraid that he might keep his 'promise' and leave the journalist there. But Roxton just breathed out another string of colourful curses, dropped his bag, and carefully lifted the unconscious man over his shoulder. Without missing a beat, he continued walking towards the treehouse. 


	19. Chapter 18

*Ok, point of this chapter is to explain Malone's actions and 'thoughts' in the previous one. After this comes the sit-around-the-table-and-bare-all- feelings chapter, and then.. done! I hope...  
  
Veronica awoke at the sound of a crash. They had reached the treehouse at around noon, but Malone hadn't regained consciousness, even up till dinner- time. Challenger had managed to allay her fears by explaining that the combination of exhaustion and drugs had pushed Ned past his limit and he was, literally, spent. She got out of bed and went over to his room. No one else was awake.  
  
Yet.  
  
"Ned?" she pushed the door open and peered into the darkness. She could dimly make out an overturned table, and next to the bed, was a huddled figure sobbing silently.  
  
"Ned..." she moved in closer, slowly, so as not to startle him. "You're back home now. Nothing's going to happen to you anymore.  
  
***********************************************  
  
The whip fell again, this time striking him across his shoulders. He cried out and twisted in his bonds.  
  
"You like that?" the man screamed at him. "You never saw this coming, did you?"  
  
Another blow.  
  
"Whelp."  
  
Another shriek of pain.  
  
"Weakling! Can't take what's coming for you? It's only the beginning, boy."  
  
A cut across his arm. Powder rubbed into the fresh wound.  
  
"We're taking this to new heights! Let's see how well it works, shall we?"  
  
********************************************************  
  
Veronica's chest constricted with grief when the raw scream emerged from Malone's throat. She jumped over the table and grabbed his shirt collar.  
  
"Ned, I know you can hear me! Snap out of it!"  
  
Malone pushed her away violently. Blindly, he picked himself up but crashed into the table before he could get far.  
  
*********************************************************  
  
"You know, that girl of yours didn't get very far."  
  
"L-liar!"  
  
"My men found her and that traitor. Caught them both and brought them back."  
  
"I don't.... believe..... no, not true."  
  
"Then why are you crying?" The man's features twisted in reprehensible mirth as he saw the tears of his prisoner.  
  
"She kept asking the guards, why couldn't you save her?"  
  
"No....."His words were cut off when the man slammed a fist into his side.  
  
"You know why you couldn't save her? You're weak!" The man hollered jeeringly over the pained gasps. "Too weak to be of any use, that's all.  
  
"No use to anyone at all."  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Veronica caught hold of Malone just as the door opened and three figures jostled past each other through the narrow doorway.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"This is not good."  
  
"Don't let go of him!"  
  
Malone pressed his hands to his ears, caught in limbo between the real world and his hallucination. The clamour of voices seemed to drown out the mocking man who was sitting in the back of his mind.  
  
"Hold him," Challenger ordered as he re-entered the room holding a syringe.  
  
Roxton eyed him apprehensively, keeping a firm hold on Malone's sleeve. "Sedative again?"  
  
"Yes. It's the best way..."  
  
"No!" Veronica shook her head, remembering all too well what happened the last time. "We just need to get him out of this.. nightmare. Don't use the sedative, Challenger, please. .it'll be alright..  
  
"It has to be."  
  
Challenger bit his lip, pathos and medical logic waging a fierce battle, and his conscience joining the fray. Just at that moment, Malone leapt up and it took four of them to hold him down. The syringe fell from Challenger's grip and rolled under the bed.  
  
"We have to use the sedative, Veronica!" He yelled.  
  
"No!" She yelled back, albeit more shakily. She reached over and shook Malone, silently pleading him to wake up. But his eyes remained tightly shut, reminiscent to a grimace. At the end of her wits, she slapped him. Hard.  
  
Malone's eyes snapped open. 


	20. END

*The last chapter! I decided to finish the last part in one go and lump everything together. It's been real fun doing the story, peeking at the reviews between my fingers and what not. My thanks to all the reviewers! Cheers! ************************************************************************  
  
Another frenzied thrashing would have been more expected than what Malone did next. Sitting up slowly as the others took their hands off him, he reached up to cradle his sore cheek.  
  
"Ouch, that hurt.."  
  
Veronica sat back on the floor in utter astonishment, mouth agape. That was it? Was that all he was going to say?  
  
"Can't think of anything else really," Malone said quietly, startling Veronica, who hadn't realised she had asked her question out loud. They shared the briefest of smiles, before both turned away, slightly embarrassed.  
  
For the strangest of reasons - none -, Marguerite unsuccessfully tried to suppress a nervous giggle by clamping a hand over her mouth. And that got the whole group started off; each not understanding, yet wholeheartedly immersing themselves in laughter. Though unintentional, it was just the thing needed to lift the gloom and fear that had hung over everyone for the past two days.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------  
  
"Can't say it was the best thing that has happened," Veronica said as she dragged her gaze from the floor, blinking away the sudden moisture, "but it has, so nothing can change that.  
  
"Regrets don't work, though I wished they did. I should've gone back, but Jakum is one stubborn mule."  
  
"Much like you really, only male," Malone teased carefully, probing her emotional limit.  
  
"Was that a joke Ned? It was! I can't believe it," Roxton exclaimed, sending those around the table into a bout of laughter. But the sobriety settled back soon after.  
  
"We all have our own what-ifs, Veronica," Challenger soothed, "myself included. I wished I could have been there to help, could have somehow known in advance so that what happened didn't have to happen. And seeing you on the bed yesterday night, I have to admit Ned, I was very close to suffocating myself under self-guilt."  
  
Roxton remained silent, staring at his clasped hands on the table. But Marguerite detected a slight nod at Challenger's last sentence, and knew he felt the same.  
  
"Roxton and Marguerite took it better than I did," Challenger continued. "Especially considering that they were the ones who got you out..."  
  
Of the cell, were unspoken, but the mere thought of it made Malone tremble ever so slightly.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered before regaining his composure. "Thank you," he said, louder. "I am grateful, truly, I am. And there is no sense in blaming yourselves for what happened. I was too. . too weak, and I couldn't stop them. I brought it upon myself."  
  
Veronica shook her head. "No. I don't believe that Ned. You did all you could to save me, and you almost gave your life for that."  
  
Malone shivered involuntarily, sending a stab of pain up his bruised sides.  
  
"Weakling!"  
  
"Whelp!"  
  
"Scream all you want. . no one will hear you anyway."  
  
Get away, have to get away. No, please... no...  
  
"Malone!"  
  
He jumped slightly, raised his head too quickly and had to grit his teeth to stop the room from spinning.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled, "got distracted."  
  
Veronica frowned, but refrained from commenting.  
  
Marguerite watched the young man, saw the pain and fatigue on his face that he fought to suppress. And she finally understood his actions earlier that day.  
  
"You don't have to prove yourself to anyone Malone."  
  
Ned looked at him in shock but he knew he shouldn't have been. Marguerite's ability to read into the motives behind people's actions had been apparent from the day they had met.  
  
"I just thought.. I needed to feel that I was worth something."  
  
"Of course you are," Veronica leaned over to grasp his hand. "And nothing would make us think any different."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------  
  
Entry 4:  
  
It has been a week since our run-in with the traders. Malone's condition has improved significantly, as well as the general mood in the tree-house. Of course, Malone has yet to leave the incident completely behind him. He still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, disoriented, but he has been responding much quicker to us than the first night. I am still running tests on the effects of the drug that had been 'administered' and the extent to which it is responsible for his frequent and vivid recollections.  
  
The others have more or less returned to their routine life, including myself. Veronica still hovers around Malone, such is her character to care so much for a companion. Roxton and Marguerite have been somber for the past week, but today's little argument over the viscosity of Marguerite's soup (I would have to agree with Roxton this time: no soup should ever look like that) is most likely a sign that things are more or less returning to normal.  
  
As for myself, it took me two days of coaxing to convince Malone that what happened could not have been prevented: it was meant to be. And ironically, he turned the tables and told me that if I said so, I should not be making what he terms "the guilt trip" because of my supposed failure to protect him. To my surprise, it took that to lift the load off my shoulders. Malone should consider pursuing psychiatry in the future.  
  
Life is not a bed of roses: Funny how such a clichéd phrase could be so applicable to reality itself. The thorns will always be there, but that didn't stop the rose from becoming a lovely flower. Likewise, why should we be daunted by our own thorns in life? They will always be there, we will just have to live with them.  
  
If Summerlee could hear me now. I think he would laugh his head off.  
  
George Challenger 


	21. Epilogue? maybe

*Oh man.. looks like I spoke too soon about the previous chapter being the last. I will put this down as the epilogue, per se. See what you guys think. If it fits fine, I'll leave it. I would have to agree with jon, there has to be something done about the ending to make it more, uh, to make it have a sense of closure I guess. No harm trying. =) Warning: Major N/V ship ahead.  
  
"More coffee, Ned?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Roxton looked at the almost-empty pot, then back at Malone.  
  
"You sure you want to-"  
  
A raven-haired whirlwind snatched the pot from Veronica's hand before he could finish his sentence. "Edward Malone, if you ever come between me and my third cup, you had better reconsider, because if you don't, I will-"  
  
"You will what?" Veronica interrupted her tirade sharply.  
  
Roxton and Malone ducked their heads under the table in silent laughter as the two women squared off. Challenger, as usual, was oblivious to the ruckus, his book inches away from his face.  
  
"Roxton, stop laughing," Marguerite ordered, her gaze still locked with Veronica's.  
  
Something that sounded suspiciously like muffled chuckles answered her before both men stood up, faces red with the effort of controlling their obvious amusement at the scene before them.  
  
"Oh come on girls," Roxton chided teasingly as he took Marguerite by the arm, "play nice now. We don't need a catfight. There are enough dangerous species here to worry about without the inclusion of felines."  
  
"Har har John, very funny," The scowl was instantly replaced by a look of surprise when John bent down, kissed her on the cheek, then walked off. She glanced at the younger pair, who had carefully averted their gaze the other way.  
  
"Malone, the inland sea is taken," Roxton yelled from his room.  
  
"Fine by me," the young man yelled back. Marguerite gaped before rushing into Roxton's room.  
  
"What was that?!" she demanded as she closed the door. John turned to face her with an innocent smile on his face.  
  
"I had to get your attention somehow. You were so occupied with the coffee, I couldn't think of any other way."  
  
Marguerite just stood there silently until John sat on his bed with a sigh and proceeded to explain further.  
  
"Look, Veronica and Malone need some time together, and I don't think they would want to leave this treehouse for a while, given the, uh, incident that.." He trailed off.  
  
"Go on," Marguerite sat next to him, looking faintly interested.  
  
"And so I thought we would, might as well, leave them alone for today, and make a trip to the inland sea. You've always liked it there."  
  
"I like Brighton beach better."  
  
"What? And miss play time with the raptors?"  
  
Marguerite rolled her eyes and got up. She was at the door when she paused and said, "I'll get my things."  
  
Roxton grinned.  
  
Malone and Veronica had the whole place to themselves. Almost. But Challenger had been very engrossed in his lab work lately, so Malone's room was a safe bet.  
  
The two of them sat facing each other, both slightly flushed, unused to their privacy and close proximity.  
  
"I wonder how Jakum is," Veronica initiated the conversation casually. Malone immediately gripped his pant legs in an effort to calm himself.  
  
It's over, it's over, I'm okay, they're just memories.  
  
Veronica bit her lip, watching his silent struggle, and berated herself for bringing up the still-sensitive subject. One day, that was all it took to traumatize him, and then some. The memories were not decreasing so much as fluctuating in intensity. One night he could sleep without waking, the next, he would be found huddled under the bed, rocking back and forth, sobbing.  
  
"I can't go through this," he would say on the nights of particularly bad nightmares. But the next day he would always appear at the breakfast table, eyes bloodshot, but otherwise acting like nothing was wrong.  
  
"Ned-"  
  
"I'm fine," he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
  
"But I'm not."  
  
Malone looked at her, the wash of emotions on his face - confusion, guilt, regret - ended with abstract sadness. She lifted her hand and touched a fading bruise on his cheek.  
  
"I never wanted this to happen, Ned."  
  
"I know.. no one did."  
  
"You know, when Jakum was dragging me to the jungle, I could still hear the traders. Everything they said. The yells and curses, the threats. You."  
  
"I'm sorry Veronica." He buried his face in his hands, not knowing how else to tell her that he had to do what he did. For her.  
  
"No, no. Don't be.. I should be apologizing, not you."  
  
"Whatever for?"  
  
So many reasons, Ned! "For leaving you behind."  
  
"That was my idea."  
  
"I know it was. But like I told Roxton, I could have escaped from Jakum, run back and help you. But I didn't. I was scared. And I still hate myself for that."  
  
"Veronica, if it happened your way, we wouldn't be here now. And you know that. It was for the best."  
  
Veronica smiled sadly. "That was what Jakum said when he and I were hiding."  
  
Malone blinked back tears, remembering the lies they drummed into him when he was at his most vulnerable.  
  
"They told..told me.. that they captured you, again. I-I almost lost it there. They, h-he, he said you, I betrayed you. .you didn't escape. It's hard to-to rationalize wh-when you are, you have, people b-behind.. when y- you are-"  
  
He was stammering, shaking, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. Veronica pulled him in to her arms in an embrace, rocking him gently.  
  
And they sat in such a position for a long time, reveling in the closeness and the comfort it provided. They did not speak, but just cried and released. It just felt like the right thing to do.  
  
"You ok?" Malone's voice came out hoarse.  
  
"Yeah." Hers was no better.  
  
She leant closer into him, felt his warm skin under her fingers, inhaled his scent.  
  
"Love you," she whispered.  
  
"Right back at you."  
  
He tilted her chin up gently. They stared into each other's eyes, before he tentatively brushed his lips with hers. She responded in kind.  
  
"Challenger!" Roxton jumped behind the older man, nearly scaring him into dropping a test tube.  
  
"John Roxton, I do wish you wouldn't do that, especially in my laboratory. What were you thinking man? Where did you come from anyhow?"  
  
"Up the elevator George ol' man. You didn't hear it? Hmph, thought not."  
  
Challenger stared at the English lord, noting his giddy exhilaration and light tone.  
  
"Did something happen between you and Marguerite?"  
  
"You never were the discreet one huh George?" He said and slapped him heartily on the back, almost causing him to drop the test tube again. Challenger grumbled under his breath as he turned back to his experiments. Roxton grinned before he decided to leave the scientist in peace.  
  
As he made his way up the stairs, he saw Malone and Veronica emerge from the room, looking tired but happier than they had been for the past week and a half.  
  
"Malone," he called. The young man turned and grinned.  
  
"Hey Roxton, how was Brighton beach?"  
  
"Hot."  
  
Malone raised an eyebrow.  
  
"It was!" Roxton feigned innocence. "And how was your time with Veronica?"  
  
"Good."  
  
Roxton raised an eyebrow to match Malone. But Malone's warning glare made him erase the thought that had just crossed his mind.  
  
"But you got things sorted out?"  
  
"We did."  
  
Roxton patted him on the back, gently, cautious of the still-healing wounds. Suddenly, they heard a commotion in the kitchen.  
  
"Are you preparing dinner?"  
  
"So what if I am?"  
  
"Don't! You're a walking disaster in here!"  
  
"It was only the soup the last time."  
  
"That's the only one you cooked! Roxton, Ned, get in here!"  
  
"Challenger, get up here now!" Roxton yelled.  
  
"Whatever for?"  
  
"Marguerite is trying to cook dinner again."  
  
Challenger quickly placed his test tubes properly and ran up to the kitchen to avert the crisis at hand.  
  
"You're all exaggerating."  
  
"We aren't, now hand me that ladle before you kill someone."  
  
FIN (maybe, should be, it is. Hope so.) 


End file.
